Let's Fxxx It Out
by mojor
Summary: Episode Fix for The Limey, because Kate should never have made that last phonecall, she should have been angry! and gone after her guy demanding an explanation. It's M, folks!


Dedicated to the gang on Twitter who flailed and screamed and cussed at the total douche-bag behaviour of both Kate and Castle in The Limey. Seriously! Twitter rants are all that's keeping me sane at the moment... well, that and hot angry-sex fics.

I would have loved to have gotten Deb to beta this, not only for the actual beta-enhancement but cos it would have been freakin hilarious. Next time.

* * *

><p>Title from For Lovers Only.<p>

* * *

><p>Let's Fuck It Out.<p>

#####

* * *

><p>Two hours in a smoky bar with another man's thigh pressed against hers.<p>

Two hours of shot after shot until her head swam with something other than confusion.

Two hours of picturing Castle with his arm around another woman as he walked away from her.

Two hours to go from frustrated to furious.

And then a single heartbeat between Colin's lips on hers in a gentle farewell and her decision – she wasn't waiting any longer.

She practically growled his address to the cab driver, and then spent the ride over imagining everything she wanted to say; mentally sprouting scathing rhetoric and clinging to the image of him pleading in apology.

Eduardo's welcome died on his lips. He stood clear and held the door wide open. At least _he_ had an ounce of common sense, which was more than she could say for some.

The elevator smelled like perfume and Kate clenched her jaw, felt her fingernails digging into her palms.

The upward motion of the car had her stomach churning. She almost bolted along the hallway when the door slid open. The click of her heels along the hall matched the furious cadence of her heartbeat.

She couldn't believe she'd spent six months in therapy to have him walk away _right_ when she was ready to tell him – ready to be _with_ him.

Why hang around for so long whispering promises of 'always' only to suddenly start chasing bimbos in short skirts? The guy was a jerk.

But he was _her _jerk! And he owed her a damn good explanation.

She knocked on the door and was startled by the booming echo in the hall. The noise matched her mood and she pounded again, enjoying the sharp pain in her knuckles and the rattle of the door against the frame.

No answer.

She looked along the empty hallway and imagined herself retreating. Imagined letting the moment pass her by. Again.

Her arms fell to her side. The powerful wave of anger that had sustained her cross-town march began to subside and her throat tightened.

Is this what it had come to? Her standing on the outside? Yet another wall between them?

Kate's fists clenched and she pounded on the timber again, pausing only long enough to shout at the closed door.

"Castle! I'm not leaving, so you may as well let me in!"

She was so startled when the door flew open it took her a moment to move beyond the fury in his expression to realise his shirt was half buttoned, his hair thoroughly messed.

The rage was instantly back. It should be _her_ unbuttoning his shirt. _Her_ hands tangled in his hair.

Kate pushed past him, prepared to march straight into his bedroom if she had to.

She found her sitting on the couch; shoes off, lipstick smudged; looking entirely too fuckable.

"You need to leave," she told her, low and threatening.

Kate had spent years breaking criminals and murderers with little more than the force of her glare. A flight attendant hardly stood a chance; even one that had just had Rick Castle's hand up her dress.

The other woman flicked a glance towards her date; frowning her dissatisfaction.

Kate didn't blame her. It wasn't how she expected the evening to go either.

"You don't need to leave," Rick protested.

But the blonde was already smoothing her clothes and reaching for her shoes. She walked a wide berth around them, silent, and headed towards the exit.

The room was painfully still after the click of the door locking behind her.

"What the hell was that, Beckett?" he rounded on her.

"What do you think? You're acting like an idiot!" she yelled at him, and had to stop to catch her breath. Her heart pounded as if she'd spent the last five minutes chasing a perp instead of chasing another woman out of her partner's arms.

"And what business is it of yours if I am?"

"You worm your way into my life and suddenly you decide it's not fun anymore? It's too complicated?"

"I guess I just know when to call it quits," he spat back.

"So that's it? You're just calling it quits" she strode towards him, eyes blazing, "Were you going to bother to tell me? Or was I supposed to just figure it out on my own?"

"How the hell should I know, Kate?" He threw his arms up, face distorted in anger, "I've never been able to figure it out. Why should now be any different?"

Kate decided it was better than the coldly indifferent mask he'd worn for the past week. She studied him, looking for cracks in his armour, a reason for his retreat; but beyond the anger he was still unreadable.

"That's all you've got to say? Seriously?"

His body stilled and the mask was back. His blank stare and the jut of his chin only fuelled her rage. Who the hell did he think he was?

Kate closed the distance between them and didn't stop. She pushed out at him with the heels of her hands, ramming into his ribs and rejoicing in the look of shock on his face.

"Don't," he growled at her in a voice she hardly recognised, his arms coming up between them.

"Then don't you walk away from me!" She moved to shove him again and he caught her, his hands gripping tight to her arms.

"Away from what? Huh, Kate? Away from _what_?" his voice raised to match hers.

She jabbed her knuckles into the tendons above his elbow and yanked her arms free, only to march into him again, her face only inches from his.

"Away from us! After everything we've been through I deserve more than this!"

He faced her squarely, not intimidated by her aggression. "_You_ deserve more? What about _me_?"

"What about you?" she pulled back in surprise, "Everything I've done I've done for you!"

"That's rich, Kate. And I've had enough of standing on the sidelines. You can keep some other fool dangling on a string. I'm done."

"Well, I'm not!" she pushed him again, grabbing hold, desperate for a reaction. Any reaction.

His shirt gaped wide; the final two buttons holding on against her assault but revealing an expanse of smooth skin, muscled chest; skin so far untouched, at least by her.

Had _she_ had her hands on him? Her mouth? Had _she_ explored the contours of his body?

Ricks's hands were rough where they curled around her shoulders; the heel of his palm pushing her back and the hard points of his fingers digging into bone, pulling her in. "And Kate Beckett always gets her own way, isn't that right?"

The derision in his voice drew her eyes up and away from his chest, and she saw only contempt where she was so used to seeing affection. It took a moment for his words to penetrate.

"Is that what's wrong? You didn't get your own way?" Her hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt, her nails scratching roughly across him as she tightened her hold, until the backs of her knuckles pressed against warm skin. "You got tired of waiting and decided to make a point? Rub my nose in the fact that you can have any woman you want?"

She rose up on the balls of her feet, rammed her fists into the soft flesh of his stomach, used the movement to push him backwards.

He grunted at the impact, a sudden exhalation, his breath hot and teasing across her lips.

He grabbed at her wrists, twisting them, breaking her grip, using his strength against her, "You had your chance. You weren't interested."

She tried to roll away from him, stepping sideways to wedge her elbow into him in a futile attempt to free herself. He only tightened his vice-like grip, pulled her hard against him.

He was so close she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her own; the heat of his body, the solid strength of him, his achingly familiar scent.

She wanted him. And he was telling her she was too late?

"Fuck you, Rick!" she surged up into him, her mouth closing over his, bruising and brutal in her intensity.

She didn't give him a chance to respond before her tongue was demanding entry, forcing her way inside him.

His hands flexed against her wrists, and his lips parted under her assault. He growled desperately into her mouth, kissing her back.

Kate ran her tongue across his teeth, circled his mouth, battled against the probing wetness of his own tongue as he fought with her. She broke the kiss with a tilt of her head, nudged him hard with her nose, before her teeth closed over the soft flesh of his lips, biting down hard at the side of his mouth.

He cried out, pulling away sharply.

Kate looked up at him, smiling wildly, before she brought her teeth to the side of his neck, biting and sucking her way down his naked chest; marking his skin the way he'd marked every part of her.

Rick stepped one foot between her legs and spun her around, used his grip on her wrists to shove her backwards, her head and back slamming against the narrow stretch of wall. She fought his attempt at dominance, closing her teeth over the ridge of his clavicle and pressing the length of their bodies together.

He thrust his hips into her, and the hard length of his erection against her hip set the smouldering heat in her belly to flames.

Had her knock at the door interrupted them? How much of his arousal was due to heat of her body against his, and how much to unfinished business with the woman on his couch? The thought made her skin prickle. She tugged at their joined arms, fingers clawing at skin, her mouth open and wet and frantic against his throat.

Rick pulled her hands off him, lifted her arms above her head, and forced her to look up at him. And then his mouth was on hers; his kisses just as demanding, if far less brutal, than her own.

She took them, took everything he gave her, until even that wasn't enough.

She rolled her hips into him, felt him rock against her, swallowed the guttural moan that vibrated against her lips. The pressure against her wrists weakened, and she used his distraction to pull her arms away, linking them around the back of his head and drawing him into her.

He let go and anchored his hands to her hips. His thumbs caressed up and down over the jut of bone, his pelvis grinding into her. Forceful.

Kate took his head in her hands and pulled him tight against her, kissing him deeply. With every stroke of his thumb, and every rock and thrust of his hips she felt her body meld into him, her legs weaken, her mouth soften, until she was wrapping herself around him, her breath coming short and fast against his lips.

"Why, Kate?" he whispered, his voice was rough, breaking on her name.

She leaned her head back against the wall to look at him; haunted and seemingly just as confused and afraid as she was.

His hands gentled at her hip, and with fingers splayed he slid them around her back, "Why?" he repeated, and he sounded like he'd truly given up.

Even with her wrapped around him, and her teeth marks on his throat, he'd given up on her. On them.

She wasn't going to let him.

Kate's hands fell to his shoulders, running under the fabric of his shirt, over the ridge of his shoulder blade and down his back; ripping his shirt from him.

With her arms tight around his waist she pressed her forehead into the valley between shoulder and torso, breathing him in. "Because I love you, and I can't let you walk away," she growled into his skin, and laved her tongue across him, the tang of sweat and taste of _him_ singing in her blood.

Her teeth grazed over pebbled nipples, her hands fumbled at his belt, frenzied tugging that forced the buckle open and his zipper to part. And then her hands were on him.

Anything he might have thought to say was lost in a guttural moan that she felt reverberate through his body.

His hands left her back to clutch at her head, bury in her hair.

"Kate?" He tried to tilt her face to look up at him, but she turned away, her lips and her tongue dipping lower to trace the line of his boxers where they were visible at the open vee of his jeans.

She wedged her hands into the gap at the back of his pants, shoved them down his hips, kneading and squeezing at the soft flesh of his cheeks as she dropped to her knees.

Kate knew exactly where she wanted to be, where she needed him, and her hands massaged their way down the taut line of his hamstrings, never gentling, nudging him into her. She skirted the hard curve of his thighs and, with her hands wrapped around the outside of each leg, her thumbs pressed up the middle of his thighs. Closing in.

His breathing become ragged, his stomach muscles twitching with each pass of her tongue and scrape of her teeth. His hands swirled around her head and her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair before tracing the ridge of her ear, the smooth skin of her cheek, pulling her into his stomach and then letting go; tensing and releasing. Never still.

It raised goosebumps along her scalp and down to her shoulders, made her nipples contract and sent jolts of energy straight to her centre.

"Kate, it's not –"

His words were lost in a deep keening moan as she palmed him roughly, two handed, squeezing his balls and closing her fist around him, lifting him, angling him up to her mouth.

She closed around him, her tongue swirling, head rolling to circle him, relaxing her jaw and taking him as deeply into her as she could before tightening her lips, pressing with her tongue and sucking the length of him.

His breath caught in his lungs, and he moaned long and low.

She pulled back, let her teeth brush against the ridge of him, before soothing with the hot wet press of her tongue and drawing him in again.

His knees parted, his jeans tangling around his calves as he bucked into her. With hands flexing, mindlessly caressing, he stared down at her; unable to comprehend the sight of her on her knees, her mouth around him, her hair falling over her shoulders and tickling against his thighs as she bobbed and sucked at him.

She wanted her mouth everywhere on him, wanted to claim him, wanted him begging and panting her name. With one hand holding him in place, she curled the other around the crease between his leg and the firm curve of his arse, fingers teasing and massaging, encouraging the rock of his hips as he jerked against her mouth.

Kate drew her lips over the tip of him, her hand cupping him, playing at the weight of his balls with the tips of her fingers.

"You're mine," she murmured, before sliding over him again.

Blood throbbed and pulsed through him, and Rick felt the heavy build of pressure through the length of his cock.

"I've always been yours," he managed to choke out between jagged breaths, "Oh, holy fuck, Kate," the words came hard, almost lost in his heaving pants as he tried to draw out the sensation, desperate for release but not wanting the moment to end.

"I want you," she said around him, sucking and licking, her hands working at him in the space between her mouth and his groin.

His legs started to buckle and she pinched hard at the sensitive skin at the back of his thigh, tightened the fist that circled him and sucked him hard.

"Kate," he cried out, his voice a warning, his hands wrapped wide around her skull.

She pressed her tongue flat, angling her head, and slid over him with a moan. The first wave of his release came hard in her mouth, and she felt her clit throb and a wave of her own pleasure rolled through her at the taste of him against her tongue. She swallowed fast, and he filled her, his whole body shaking, the strangled cry of his orgasm sending answering jolts of energy through her.

She kept her mouth on him, drawing out his climax, until the shudders that ran through him gentled and he exhaled in a long drawn out moan that started as her name and ended with nothing but a breathless sigh of pleasure.

The tang of him filled her mouth and she let him fall away from her tongue. With her hands on his hips she pulled herself up to face him, and kissed him deeply, letting him taste himself in her mouth.

They stood pressed together, until he slowed their kiss, his hands exploring her body, sliding up under her blouse, and around to cup her breasts through her clothes, before leaning back to watch her as she arched into him.

Her entire body vibrated, skin tingling. She met his gaze, eyes half-lidded, dark with arousal, her hands sliding up over the sweat-beaded skin of his chest, "This is mine," she told him, serious.

He cupped her cheek, his palm soft against her, "Not just this – everything. It's all yours. You only had to want it."

"I've always wanted it. Wanted you," she straddled his thigh, pressing herself against him, "I just didn't know how."

"This isn't the way I imagined you telling me," his lips met hers again.

"Complaining?"

"Hell, no."

His mouth covered hers and he kicked at his pants, stepped out of them without losing contact with her body. Then he pressed her backwards into the wall, his hands working at the button on her pants, forcing his fingers inside her underwear.

Kate rocked against his hand, desperate and so close to losing control.

"Make me yours," she begged.

"You already are."


End file.
